Medicaments
by Lucillia
Summary: When the Eleventh Doctor has a little adventure in "the rainbow guy's" territory, he runs into Harry Sullivan who decides to solve one of the Doctor's problems the way many doctors do nowadays.


"I swear, that man's like a puppy with what do you call that newfangled diagnosis that seems to be cropping up everywhere? Oh yes, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder." the Brigadier who'd yet again temporarily popped out of retirement said as he watched the Doctor who "technically wasn't supposed to be here since it's rainbow guy's territory" flit about gesticulating wildly as he spoke.

There was something of the little black haired Doctor who'd dressed like a hobo about him, but the little guy tended to be a bit more serious and more focused on what was in front of him than this one who was apparently never going to say "groovy" again since it was a "terrible word". There was something of Teeth and Curls about him as well, but there had always been a sense that the big guy with the scarf was being deliberately off-putting in order to disarm your mental defenses that wasn't present with floppy hair and tweed with a "Bowties are cool!" bowtie. He looked younger than the one in the Cricketer's getup, which was saying something, because if he was to be believed he was a couple hundred years older than him "unless he was lying about his age again".

Trying to figure out the Doctor's age was puzzling in and of itself. Jamie had once confided in him that the little guy was about four-hundred and fifty years old. The big guy who ran around in velvet smoking jackets and a cape had said on more than one occasion that he was in his thousands, but Teeth and Curls claimed to be only about seven-hundred and fifty. The closest thing he'd gotten to a straight answer from the Doctor on the subject of his actual age had been a somewhat rude "I don't count my age by the rotations of _your_ planet." from the egotistical fellow in the multicolored jacket whose attitude and complete unpredictability had grated on his sensibilities.

The sound of Harry Sullivan who'd dropped by for a visit to the old U.N.I.T. base and gotten dragged into the Doctor's wake on yet another adventure scribbling something on a piece of paper pulled the Brigadier out of his musings on this new Doctor whom he wasn't supposed to encounter until later; seeing as the Doctors had all apparently split up the latter half of the Twentieth Century and the early parts of the Twenty-First Century and parceled them out in an attempt to prevent accidental encounters and the paradoxes that might arise from such, and this small segment of the Nineteen-Eighties belonged to the man in the brightly colored jacket and yellow trousers.

"What is that?" he asked as Dr. Sullivan handed the Doctor a small slip of paper with a "Here you go old bean".

"I gave the Doctor a prescription for something I think might help with his little attention span problem. I'm not a Psychiatrist, but I've had some training in that area." Harry Sullivan replied.

"You are aware of the fact that the Doctor is an alien?" the Brigadier replied, wondering at the irresponsibility of handing medication or even a prescription for such to someone whose biology and medical history you knew little about, especially if they weren't from the same planet.

"An alien that's capable of breathing our air, drinking our water, and eating our food in mass quantities with no ill effect. One of the first things I asked the Doctor I traveled with once we'd gotten a moment's peace after he'd pulled through that Post-Regeneration crisis or whatever you call it and I could get something approaching sense out of him was what medicines would cause him harm, or outright poison him. About the only thing on that list was aspirin." Harry Sullivan replied. "Besides, considering the fact that he'd more than likely not get it filled like he didn't fill the last one I gave him during a period when his behavior was more manic than usual, it's more of a symbolic gesture. I'm basically just alerting him to the fact that he has a problem that might need treatment. He can just look up the medication, see what it's for, and give himself the appropriate Gallifreyan equivalent."

When the Doctor accepted his invitation to spend the weekend at his house once the current mess was over, the Brigadier had been surprised to discover that the Doctor had actually gotten the prescription that Harry Sullivan had given him filled. As he watched, wondering what the Doctor was thinking the entire time, the Doctor opened the small bottle from the Chemist's, shook out a capsule, popped it into his mouth, and washed it down with water almost immediately after supper.

"Are you sure you should be doing that Doctor?" the Brigadier asked.

"It's fine. I've already scanned it. My parents used to give me something similar back when I was a Time Tot so they could get five minutes peace." the Doctor replied. "I have no idea why Harry wants me to take it first thing in the morning though."

As he watched, wondering at the fact that a two-hearted poikilotherm from another planet could have a similar enough biology that medication that was meant for a human could have the same effect on him, the Doctor sat down on the sitting-room sofa, pulled off his shoes, blinked a couple of times, said "Night night", just sort of leaned over so he was halfway laying down, and fell asleep. After pulling the Doctor's feet up onto the couch so he'd be more comfortable and tossing the afghan that Doris had made for him over the alien who had come to be one of his best friends if not his best friend, he went over to the phone.

It would seem that he owed Harry Sullivan an apology.

"Hello?" Dr. Sullivan who'd apparently just finished his own meal said after the second ring.

"It's about that medication you prescribed for the Doctor." the Brigadier said.

"Looking back on it, it was probably an incredibly stupid thing to do, even if he doesn't bother getting the prescription filled. I'm not licensed or qualified to treat extraterrestrials, and for all we know, the Doctor could actually be well within the 'normal' range for a Time Lord." Harry Sullivan said with a sigh.

"You're probably not going to believe this, but according to the Doctor, his parents gave him something similar when he was a child, apparently to treat the exact same problem." the Brigadier said.

"Really?!" Harry Sullivan nearly shouted, sounding almost excited. "Where is the Doctor now? I'd like to speak with him if that's at all possible."

"You'll have to wait until he wakes up. He's currently sacked out on the couch sleeping like a little baby." the Brigadier replied.

"Sleeping like a- ! But..." Sullivan sputtered.

"But what?" the Brigadier asked.

"One of the standard treatments for Attention Deficit Disorder is the administration of stimulants. What I prescribed the Doctor is basically Amphetamines under a brand name." Dr. Sullivan replied.

"Good Lord!"


End file.
